


When the Dead Run The World.....

by WalkerKiller21



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha Daryl Dixon, Alpha Prime Original Male Character, Alpha Rick Grimes, Alpha Shane Walsh, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Beta Andrea, Beta Lori Grimes, Breeding, F/F, F/M, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Amy, Omega Carl Grimes, Omega Carol Peletier, Omega Sophia, Short Heats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 03:31:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12786015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkerKiller21/pseuds/WalkerKiller21
Summary: .......Everything goes to shit.Jasper Everett Grimes is 20 years old and is the first Alpha Prime in his family. His parents had him young, and his mother, when he presented as An alpha, was quick to begin ignoring him. His fathers parents, however, we're insanely proud of him presenting as an Alpha prime. When his little brother Carl was born and presented as an Omega, it seems his mother ignored children if they weren't betas like her. Jasper had to help his father raise his little brother, and they were devastated when Rick Got shot and ended up in a coma.Now, the world has gone to shit, and Jasper is All alone in camp, with him protecting his brother, and his mother screwing Shane in the woods.





	1. Chapter 1

Full name:  _ **Jasper Everett Grimes**_

Age:  _ **20**_

Height:  _ **6"0**_

Family:  _ **Rick Grimes (Father), Lori Grimes (Mother), Carl Grimes (little brother), Miriam Grimes (Grandmother-deceased), Richard Grimes (Grandfather-deceased)**_

Biology:  _ **Alpha Prime**_


	2. Days Gone by

_**-3rd Pov-** _

 

 

 

            "That Vase. That's something special. Fess up. You steal that for me at Grandma Jean's house?" A raspy voice came from inside an abandoned hospital. A figure lay in bed, sweaty and weak, chuckling as he stared up at the ceiling. "I hope you left her that spoon collection....." The Man, Rick, Chuckled. 

 

 

                    His Chuckle, ended in a body wracking cough that made his face contort in pain. "Shane?" He asked, weakly looking to the right of his hospital bed and seeing no one. "Shane, you in the John?" He rasped out, still not getting an answer. 

 

 

          Blue eyes turned to the flowers on the bedside table, seeing them withered and brittle. A flower crackled and fell to pieces in Rick's weak grip as he rolled a dead flower between two fingers. He began rapidly blinking as he looked around the room and noticed that everything was seemingly frozen in time.

 

 

 

             A grunt escaped him as he struggled to pull off the wires and Nose Cannula. Struggling, he threw off the covers and sat up, his feet dangling off the side of the bed as he prepared to stand. Using the IV pole, he pulled himself up, only for his legs to give out from underneath him. He fell to the floor with a weak shout. 

 

 

            "Nurse, help. Nurse, help." He called out. Finally pulling himself up, he made his way to the bathroom and ripped the rest of the wires off himself. Looking into the mirror briefly, he lunged weakly for the tap and greedily drank from the water that flowed. When he was satisfied, he walked over to the entrance to his room and pulled the door open, moving the hospital bed out from in front of the door.

 

 

 

            He was met with the sight of papers strewn all over the floor in the dark hallway as he made his way to the receptionists desk. He pushed the phone away upon discovering that it no longer worked and began searching the desk, coming upon some match sticks. 

 

 

 

             Somewhere nearby, a light hummed, leading Rick to double doors. Limping his way to the doors, he peered through the window and what he saw horrified him. Lying in the middle of the hall, was a body, lying completely still. Blue scrubs hung off the body in tatters. The woman's face was pale, with a trail of dried blood leaving her mouth. From the neck down, it looked as if she'd been eaten alive, something pulling skin, muscle and Intestines out. Dried blood was pooled around the body as Rick finally found the strength to rip himself away from the gruesome sight.

 

 

 

                   Limping down the hallway a bit faster, he observed the wires hanging from the ceiling, the blood spattered walls and floors and the bullet holes littering the walls. He made it to the end of the hallway, coming upon cafeteria doors that were locked and chained shut, a two by four stuck into the door handles for good measure. The door began thumping and the chains began rattling. ' _Don't open, Dead inside._ ' The Doors read. 

 

 

 

 

               The doors opened just enough for a few rotting fingers to slip through. Rick began panting in fear, ripping himself away and speeding into another hallway. He began trying both elevators before pushing his way into the stairwell. Lighting a match, he carefully made his way down the stairs until he was outside in the ambulance entrance. He shielded his eyes as the light from the sun blinded him. Making his way down the steps, he was met with the sight of flies buzzing around white sheet wrapped bodies.

 

 

 

 

                The smell of Dead, rotting flesh overwhelmed him as he made his way through the carnage. The ambulance bay was littered with bodies wrapped in white blood spattered sheets. Exiting the ambulance bay, he crawled his way up a grassy hill, coming upon what used to be a military camp, now abandoned. Birds chirped and bugs chittered as he made his way down the street, coming upon a bike left abandoned. 

 

 

 

             Moving to pick the bike up, he was met with the sight of a body a few feet away, from the waist down flesh and muscle had been eaten away. "Ah. Ah! Oh shit!" Rick gasped as the body rolled to its back and began grasping at him. Coming to his senses, Rick stood back up, got on the bike and began peddling away. 

 

 

 

            Stopping outside his home, he abandoned the bike and raced inside. "Lori." He called, pulling the screen door open. "Lori!" He called again, walking into their bedroom. His nose wrinkled at the scent of old sex. Shaking his head, he moved on. "Carl. Carl! Jasper! JASPER!" He yelled, hoping to find someone..... Anyone.

 

 

 

 

           Falling to his knees in the living room, he began sobbing. "Is this real?" He sobbed out, touching the hardwood floor gingerly. "Am I here? Wake up! Wake up!" He spoke firmly. Standing, he walked outside and down the steps. Sitting down, he spotted a figure in the distance. Thinking it was a normal person just wandering, he began waving at the figure weakly. 

 

 

 

            A twig snapped, making him whirl around, only to be met with a shovel to the face. "Daddy! Daddy!" A child called as Rick stared up at him. "Carl. I found you." Rick whispered, vision hazy. "Daddy, I got the sumbitch! Imma smack him dead!" The boy shouted as another figure ran up to the walker and put a bullet in It's brain. The man came to stand beside his son, pushing him away from Rick's downed form. 

 

 

 

              "He say something? I thought I heard him say something." The man questioned his son urgently. "He called me Carl." The boy whimpered. "Son, you know they don't talk..." the man spoke before sticking his gun in Rick's race.

 

 

        "Hey, mister. What's the bandage for?" The man asked shakily. "W--....what?" Rick asked, confused. "What kind of wound? You answer me, damn you! What's your wound? You tell me, or I will kill you." The man spoke, only for Rick's eyes to roll back into his head as he passed out.

* * *

 

 

 

           Rick awoke to find himself tied to a bed, his arms and legs tied to their respective bed posts. Looking to the side, he caught sight of the boy standing there, this time, armed with a wooden baseball bat.

 

 

 

            Rubber gloves snapping made him turn to his other side, where the man stood over a bowl of water. "You got that bandage changed now. It was pretty rank. What was the wound?" The man questioned Rick. "Gunshot." Rick finally answered. "Gunshot? What else? Anything?" The man questioned him. "Gunshot ain't enough?" Rick sassed as he laid there. 

 

 

 

         "Look, I ask, and you answer. That's common courtesy, right?" The man asked before leaning over Rick's prone form. "Did. You. Get. Bit?" He asked emphatically. "Bit?" Rick asked in confusion. "Bit, chewed, maybe scratched--... anything like that?" The man asked again. "No. I got shot. Just shot as far as I know." Rick stated. The man sat back before reaching out to touch Rick's forehead. Rick flinched away from the man's touch. "Hey. Just let me." The man spoke, pressing his hand to Rick's head to feel for a fever. 

 

 

 

               "Feels cool enough." He spoke to his boy. "Fever would've killed you by now." He told Rick, who told him he didn't think he had one. "It'd be hard to miss." The man stated before taking out a pocket knife and holding it up so that Rick could see it. "Take a moment. Look how sharp it is. You try anything, I will kill you with it, and don't you think I won't. " He stated firmly before realignment over and slicing through the ropes tying Rick to the bed. 

 

 

 

            "Come on out when you're able." The man stated as Rick brought his hands together and began rubbing his wrists. The man led his son out of the room, leaving Rick by himself. After a few moments, Rick made his way out of the bed and into the next room. "This place--.... Fred and Cindy Drake's?" Rick asked, observing the walls.

 

 

         "Never met 'em." The man spoke. "I've been here. This is their place." Rick spoke as he walked around the bed on the floor and into the dining room. "It was empty when we got here." The man spoke as Rick walked over to a covered window. "Don't do that. They'll see the light." He advised as Rick made a move to pull away a cover that was hanging over the window.

 

 

 

           "There's more of them out there than usual. I never should've fired that gun today." The man said, regret clear in his voice. "Sound draws them. Now they're all over the street." The man spoke, moving a Can the table.

 

 

 

         "Stupid--... using a gun. But it all happened so fast, I didn't think." He added, taking a seat at the table.

* * *

 

 

_**-time Skip-** _

 

 

         "Daddy, what're these?" Duane questioned as he walked into the Grimes' Kitchen, papers clutched tightly in his hands. Morgan took the papers from his son and looked at them before laying them on the table. Rick inched forward and began reading them.

 

 

             " _Petition for bond breaking, Custody arrangement and annulment of marriage?_ What the hell?" Rick questioned softly before looking through the rest of the papers. They did belong to Lori, and what broke his heart the most was the fact that they'd been signed and dated almost a month before he got shot.

 

 

         Sinking into his chair, Rick ran his hand through his curls. "She was going to leave me.... try to take my pups..... let them visit me with  _SUPERVISED_ visits?" Rick snarled softly in anger. Morgan and Duane sat there, watching him in silence. Carefully folding the papers, Rick placed them in the bag gently and walked into the kitchen, pulling open a pantry door and grabbing a set of keys off the key ring.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

       The trio made their way into the police station and headed for the men's locker rooms. Setting his things down, Rick walked over to the shower, grabbed the hot water knob and turned it hesitantly. The knob squealed and the pipes groaned as Water began to pour out of he shower head.

 

 

            "Gas lines been down, maybe a month." Morgan spoke, skepticism Lear in his voice. "The stations got its own propane system." Rick spoke, sticking his hand under the spray of water. "Pilots still on." He added, feeling the warm water. Within minutes, they were all in the shower, Morgan and Duane rejoicing at the hot water. 

 

 

               Once they were all finished, Duane made his way into the dressing room to get changed. "Atlanta sounds like a good deal." Rick stated once Duane was out of earshot. "Safer anyway.... people." He added.

 

 

              "That's where we were headed before things got crazy. Streets weren't fit to be on. And then my----......my wife couldn't travel. Not with her hurt. We had to find a place to lay low. And then after she died..... we just stayed hunkered down." Morgan spoke. "Plan to move on?" Rick asked him. "Haven't worked up to it yet." Morgan said as he pulled on a shirt.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

           Now clean and fully dressed, Rick yanked the door to the armory open. "A lot of its gone missing." Rick stated, picking up a shotgun and checking it. "Daddy, can I learn to shoot?" Duane asked his father. "He'll yes you're gonna learn. But we've gotta do it carefully, teach you how to respect the weapon." Morgan stated. "That's right. It's not a toy. You pull the trigger, you have to mean it. Always remember that, Duane." Rick advised  Duane. "Yes sir." He replied.

 

 

 

 


End file.
